


Bunny in a Bear Trap

by IWillBeYourPet



Category: Preacher (TV)
Genre: And especially Donnie, Blow Jobs, Broken Boy, Bullying, Consensual, Crying, Depression, Dom/sub, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, Jesse is a good guy, Just a Preacher trying to save his town, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Manipulation, Men Crying, Mental Breakdown, Mind Control, NO TULIP, No explosion, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Public Humiliation, Season 1 canon divergence, Slight orgasm control, So is Donnie, Submissive Donnie, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Verbal Humiliation, dominant jesse, poor Donnie, so much kneeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeYourPet/pseuds/IWillBeYourPet
Summary: "Word gets around quick in a small town, and news of him not only getting his ass whupped but that damn bunny sound moved fast.He tried to shake it off. There were whispers and smothered laughter and Donnie acted like he didn’t care.  Like he didn’t notice.  But the humiliation burned hot and made him feel sick.He tried to still do his job.  He didn’t need help.  He didn’t need anyone.  This didn’t matter, he was still a tough guy.It’s just that it was getting harder to swallow down the lump in his throat, to meet anyone's eyes, to ignore the laughter behind his back.And it was all the Preacher’s fault."Starts with Canon and then goes way off.  Donnie is traumatized, and desperate to make it stop any way he can.  He feels like there is no way out.I wanted to write a quick smutty fic with that word of god power, but Donnie being so devastated broke my heart and this happened instead. Bolded words are god voice "commands"In this story Betsy is a cold bitch, Tulip never came back, the church never got sieged and impostor god never showed up causing the town to explode. Just Jesse with his Word of God power trying to save his town and get his life right.
Relationships: Jesse Custer/Donnie Schenck
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Bunny in a Bear Trap

It had been a long time since Donnie had gotten his ass kicked. He’d taken a punch here and there but the last time someone had put him on the ground, it had to have been when he was a teenager.

And now here he was. Bleeding, bruised and squealing on the floor of the bar. It was a tough thing to swallow. Especially when it was being rammed down his throat by Jesse Custer.

His wife didn’t come to the hospital, she told him on the phone that he should be embarrassed for making such a scene. For letting the Preacher whup him. 

It was probably for the best, once they took x rays and got him settled in a room, once he was all alone, he couldn’t stop the tears. He cried until he threw up before the drugs kicked in and he was able to fall asleep. He could still hear the sound he made. He wasn’t sure he could ever forget it. 

Word gets around quick in a small town, and news of him not only getting his ass whupped but that damn bunny sound moved  _ fast _ .

He tried to shake it off. It couldn’t really be that bad, but eyes were on him when he walked into work on Monday, and the giant cast on his arm didn’t help him fly under the radar. There were whispers and smothered laughter and Donnie acted like he didn’t care. Like he didn’t notice. But the humiliation burned hot and made him feel sick, and he knew that his face was red.

Awkwardly he tried to still do his job. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need anyone. This didn’t matter, he was still a tough guy. 

It’s just that it was getting harder to swallow down the lump in his throat, to meet anyone's eyes, to ignore the laughter behind his back. 

And it was all the Preacher’s fault.

Donnie wasn’t a killer. He was a bruiser. But he was learning humiliation wasn’t something that he took particularly well and that his coping mechanisms weren't really up to snuff. He didn't think he’d be able to face himself in the mirror every day unless he got his own back. Unless he could hurt the Preacher as much as he hurt him. 

So he needed a gun because it wasn’t like he could beat the man even before he was injured. And once you had a gun, then you were looking at being a killer, not a bruiser. Which had to be easier to live with than being a coward.

The gun felt heavy in his hand, and he swallowed down any nerves he might have. He just wanted to feel like himself again. He opened the door and stepped inside, relieved to find the man with his back to him. He needed to catch him off guard if he had a chance, he wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d been closer. “Hey Preacher.”

But he did catch him and the man met his eyes in the mirror. “Hey Donnie.”

He was so calm it made Donnie clench the gun harder. The man should be terrified, why wasn’t he? “Who’s the bunny in the bear trap now? Turn around.” The look on the man’s face shook him though. It wasn’t even that Preacher looked confident, he looked uninterested. Even with a gun on him he still couldn’t be bothered with Donnie. “Get on your knees.”

Jesse let out a put upon sigh and slid down to his knees and Donnie did get a thrill at that. He hadn’t thought the man was going to do it, and some of his uncertainty fell away.  _ He  _ was the one in power here. He moved the gun closer so there was no room for the man to fight him, to get leverage. “Now it’s your turn to make the sound.” 

Because he  _ needed _ it. Because 10 year olds were able to bully him. Because he couldn’t pick up a goddamn lunch tray. Because the thing he had always been best at was kicking people’s asses and with a broken arm - with no one afraid of him anymore - he couldn’t even do that.

“Come on, come on.” Preacher was staring at him with a blank look, “Whee… whee… come on.” He had a gun, he had the power, the man should be doing what he was telling him to, he had to. He shoved the gun against the man’s forehead, “Come on god damnit, I said squeal!” He could hear the desperation in his own voice.

“I ain’t gonna squeal for you, Donnie.”

It wasn’t fair. “Then… then you’re going to die for me.” It hadn’t been his goal, not really. He just wanted to humiliate him, knock him around, but he wasn’t even able to do that.

Still there was no fear from the man, “Not that neither. But I’ll make a deal with you.” Donnie tilted his head, desperate that the man give him something out of this, something that would make him feel better without having to kill him. So he leaned forward, and wasn’t prepared for the man’s mouth to tilt up in a smirk, “If the cops find your body, I’ll make it look like a suicide. No reason for the whole town to know that I beat you like a bitch twice.”

It felt like a gut punch and he was pulling his hand back without much thought, he’d make the man squeal one way or another. 

“ **Stop** .” Like he would… except Donnie’s arm was stuck where it was, unable to move it,

He looked to it, a panicked huff of air because it was in his hand but his mind wouldn’t let him move. “What the-”

“ **Back up.** ”

He was stumbling backwards away from Preacher and he couldn’t stop himself. He tried to push forward, to move his arm, but nothing happened. He had been so elated a few moments before but now there was just panic. Jesse’s eyes were staring him down, big and black and bile rose in his stomach. 

“ **Kneel** .” 

He hit the ground so hard it jarred his entire body and he whimpered out. His breathing was coming too fast, like he couldn’t get enough in and he stared up at Jesse, the barely there smirk on the man’s face making his whole body go cold. He tried to say something, anything, but his throat felt thick and he couldn’t manage the air to talk.

Jesse placed one hand on the edge of the stall doorway. “Just imagine what the town would think of you now Donnie, on your knees in the men’s bathroom at the gas station. Is that the kind of man you are?”

Tears were pressing behind his eyes and Donnie frantically looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Desperately looking for an escape. Jesse’s face went dark again. “ **Put the gun in your mouth** .”

His eyes went huge and he lodged the gun in his mouth, it was cold and bit into the top of his mouth and he let out a sob around it. Gagging and choking when he was unable to pull it back out. His eyes jumped from Jesse down to the gun, staring at it with horror. 

“ **Pull back the hammer.”**

This was how it was going to end. He clicked back the hammer and couldn’t even look up at Jesse anymore, gasping around the gun, staring at it. He was going to kill himself and he had no idea  _ why _ . No idea how this was happening. He didn’t want to die confused and afraid. Not like this. He could make out the high pitch whine in the bathroom, but it took a few times before he realized he was the one making it. Again.

“See, you can’t just order a man to make that sound. It just happens.” He pulled his eyes up from the gun to look at Jesse, that dark look on his face, not quite smiling and he was sure this was going to be it. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“ **Drop the gun** .”

It fell from his hands to clatter on the ground and Donnie sucked in a deep shuddering breath. His eyes darted to Jesse but the man wasn’t even looking at him. A whimper made it out and he was crying. He knew he should get up, do something,  _ anything _ but he could only kneel there, sobbing. 

Finally Jesse looked down at him. “You pissed yourself.”

He hadn’t noticed it but now he did, a warm wet feeling, and he glanced down at the front of his pants to see the proof that the man was right. Something in him broke. He could feel it almost as real as he had felt his arm snap. Jesse waved a hand at him, “You can go.”

Donnie grabbed his gun and shoved it into the waistband of his pants and tried to get up but he stumbled hard. Preacher caught his arm and he jerked away, slamming into the wall, “Don’t- don’t touch me.” The words were barely audible between sobs but Jesse put his hands up and stepped back, giving him a clear path out of the bathroom.

He darted out, fleeing, and came around the corner fast without looking and slammed into two men just coming out of the gas station. 

Two of the men he worked with of course. Because every fucker in this town worked at the same place. “Donnie?” Gary looked him up and down and Donnie just had time to see the man’s eyebrows go up before he shoved past them, heading to his car. A glance down at himself and he was sure it was pretty obvious what had happened. Behind him he heard the same man, “Preacher? What were you boys up to in there?”

He got into his car and slammed the door, hitting the lock. He needed to get out of here, he needed to get far far away. It took two tries before he could get the key in the ignition and even then his vision was too blurry to see out the windshield. His breathing was too fast and he was shaking and he was going to throw up. What the fuck had just happened?

It wasn’t safe to be driving but he pulled out, startling when someone laid on a horn. He swerved until they were past and pulled back onto the road, not sure where he was going. Anywhere that was far away from the Preacher.

The metallic taste of the gun was heavy in his mouth and he rubbed his face against his shoulder, trying to clear the tears. He wasn’t entirely sure how far he had driven but he finally had to pull over. He skidded off the road and threw open his door, caught off guard when he was yanked back by his seatbelt. He cursed and fumbled with the buckle, finally getting it off him and got out of the car. Once he was in the grass he fell to all fours, throwing up until it was just dry heaves but he could still taste the gun. Could still feel the humiliation and fear bubbling up in his stomach like acid. 

He sat back, heavy sobs shaking his body. He didn’t feel like he could stand up, he wasn’t sure he could ever stand up again. The sound of an approaching car made him move though, terrified that it might be Jesse and he was just helpless on the side of the road. So he crawled back to his car and pulled himself into the driver's seat. Hunching his shoulders over the wheel, but the car just passed by him.

How long he sat there he wasn’t sure but he finally turned the car back on and pulled out onto the road. He had to get home, he had to get cleaned up, and after that? After that he had no idea what the fuck he was going to do.

  
  


He spent three days in bed, refusing to talk, refusing to get up. His wife was understanding for one single day and then she sat on the bed and told him what people were saying about him. The rumors going around. She didn’t sound worried about him, just embarrassed by it. And told him to get over it. 

She caught him crying the second day and told him that she deserved more. 

The third day she told him she had sex with her coworker and that she wouldn’t be coming back home until he could act like a man. He hadn’t responded, staring blankly at the wall and she had left.

And he knew he should care, should be upset, but whatever had broken inside was still broken and there was no room for anything besides fear.

Eventually he had to get up though, he had a job, or at least he hoped he still had a job. He had to get back to his life. There was a feeling in his gut that if he didn’t make himself do it now he never would. 

He called work and asked for a few more days off, begging Odin while the man casually insulted him, but the man agreed. It took debasing himself more, but at least he knew he would still have a job. He tried to call Betsy but she didn’t answer and he hung up without leaving a message. 

So he took it in small steps. Concentrated on getting a bag tied over his cast so he could shower, focused on making some food because now that he was up he realized he was hungry. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. Did the laundry because the clothes from that night were still in a pile by the washer. Simple tasks that didn’t make him think too much.

When all that was done, he sat at the kitchen table and realized he didn’t want to be alone. Didn’t want to be left with only his thoughts. But where he could go was … limited. He picked up his phone and looked through the missed messages. Most of the town may be talking about him, laughing at him, but there were a few friends who were worried. 

Making a decision he texted one of them back, asked if they wanted to meet out for a drink. How fast they wrote back made him feel better, things seemed bad but maybe it was in his head and wasn’t as bad as he thought. Maybe he just needed a little help. 

When it was time to leave he almost talked himself out of it. He wasn’t dumb, he knew that someone was sure to start shit with him. But as long as… as long as the Preacher wasn’t there he would be okay. If the Preacher  _ was _ there… his breathing picked up, heart starting to race and he closed his eyes, concentrating on calming down. Just the thought of the man was enough to send him into a panic attack, if he saw the man he would get the fuck out of there. He didn’t care what it looked like, any respect he would lose for running would be nothing compared to what would happen if he was faced with Jesse. Even without the man doing anything. 

He got to the bar a little early, scanning the parking lot for a vehicle he recognized, or at least for one that belonged to someone that he didn’t think would try to kick him when he was already down. There were a few familiar ones and he flipped down his visor to look at himself, he still had a split lip but he didn’t look too bad. Didn’t look like he’d spent most of the last few days crying. He nodded and took a deep breath, and got out of his car. 

Normally when he entered the bar he made sure that everyone knew he was there, made a production out of it, but not anymore. He did his best to slide into the bar without being noticed, scanning until he found his friends. They spotted him when he was almost to them, and the smiles were real. Genuine. And it made the knot in his shoulders ease a little. 

“Donnie! Where have you been man, we were worried.”

“I-” He had just started to smile, reaching the table, when behind him there was a loud ‘whee’ followed by laughter and he froze. Verne looked to him, waiting, and this would normally be when he got loud, when he threatened, but it was like all his muscles locked up. It took a moment but he finally tried to smile again, holding the edge of the table like a lifeline as he sat down. “I haven’t felt good. Been sick.”

He saw Verne and Clive exchange looks, confused that he was just ignoring the man. They took his lead though, Verne pushing him over a beer. He grabbed it but realized before he even picked it up that his hand was gonna shake, so he just wrapped one around it for now. 

Behind him, closer, there was another whee sound. “Nothing to say, Bunny man?”

Verne spoke up when he didn’t do anything, “Fuck off Rob.”

There was more laughter but it moved away and Donnie just stared hard at his beer. It was quiet and awkward for a few moments until Clive spoke up, “Feeling better now though?”

“Yea.” He barely recognized his own voice, soft and quiet. He pressed his cast in tighter against his chest, protectively. He tried again with more force, “Yea.”

“Good to hear.” 

Around him the conversation picked back up, there was an attempt or two to include him, but mostly he just listened. Tried to relax. When he lifted his beer if it shook no one mentioned anything. 

More people started shit with him but he ignored it the best he could, the men around him following his lead and doing the same. It was nice to know that not everyone saw him as a joke. It helped. 

They had probably been there for an hour when he saw Douggie nudged Verne, the man glancing towards the door. He frowned, eyes darting to Donnie before he shook his head. It was subtle and in the past he bet he wouldn’t have even noticed, he didn’t think he paid much attention to anyone around him. But he did notice and it felt like a lead weight in his stomach because on some level he  _ knew _ who must have just walked in.

He glanced behind him at the door, and sure enough there was Jesse with that weird friend of his, laughing as they headed towards the bar. He turned back towards the table and whatever was on his face had Verne lean in, “We got your back Donnie, ain’t no reason to be scared.”

Which was the wrong thing to say. “I ain’t scared of nothing.” 

“Donnie, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He started to push to his feet, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do once he was there, but realized that the Preacher was between him and the door and he stopped halfway to his feet. They were watching him, waiting, and he saw the doubt on their faces. It made something ache in his chest, and the final straw was when he saw Verne’s face soften, like he felt bad for him and he shoved away from the table. 

It made the table rock, his beer crashing to the floor where he’d set it down to close to the edge. And it attracted attention. Donnie spun around to face the bar, and Jesse was watching him and it felt like his heart stopped. Oh no. no. no. no.

“Donnie-” It almost sounded like a plea from Clive but he was so beyond that. 

“I gotta… I gotta go.” He got the words out as fast as he could, not meeting anyones eyes. He headed straight for the exit, staring hard at the floor and lifted his hands to cover his ears, silently begging that no one would stop him. 

For once things worked for him and he was out in the parking lot without anyone interfering. With a single mindedness he went straight for his car, scrambling for his key in his pocket. He didn’t let the breath he was holding out until he got there. He was just putting the key in the lock when there was a voice behind him.

“Hey, Donnie.”

“Oh jesus.” His body jerked forward, slamming into his car door. He pressed his forehead against the car and closed his eyes, like if he didn’t look at him the man wouldn’t be there. 

“Donnie?”

He whimpered and turned away from the car, scanning the lot behind Jesse to see if any of his friends followed to help but it was just the two of them. He met Jesse’s eyes and all at once felt he was going to be sick and he found himself slipping to his knees, his hands up. “Please don’t… please don’t do  _ that _ .”

Jesse tilted his head and looked concerned. “Ah, Donnie. Come on, get up.”

His body tensed as he expected to be forced to his feet, but there wasn’t anything there. Just normal words. He stayed where he was, and didn’t realize until he swiped his arm across his face that it was wet. Fuck, he was crying. 

With a sigh Jesse crouched down in front of him. He couldn’t help it as he jerked away again, slamming his head into the door. “Donnie, I won’t use it on you, okay? Can you get up and get in the car and we can talk?”

“What - what if I don’t want to.”

Frustration crossed Jesse’s face and Donnie flinched, but the man just answered, voice calm. “Then you don’t have to, you’re free to just kneel here in the parking lot if you’d prefer. I just want to talk to you about what happened.” Donnie still didn’t move and Jesse lowered his voice, “Listen, you know I could make you if that’s what I wanted. I’m not doing that, okay? Can we talk?”

Donnie watched him and no matter what the man said he was sure if he didn’t comply the man would make him so he finally nodded, his sniffling loud to his own ears. “Okay.”

“Good man.” He patted his shoulder and moved away, presumably to the passenger side. He briefly considered running away, but where would he go. So he moved to his feet and opened the door, sliding into the seat and stared at the steering wheel. The door opened and closed and then Jesse was sitting next to him.

“Please, Preacher.”

“I fucked you up good, huh?”

Honestly he could barely hear him over the blood rushing in his ears, over his near panting. Jesse was still talking and he suddenly stuttered out, “C-can I go, please?”

There was a pause and then a deep sigh, “Okay, I wasn’t trying to upset you, Donnie. I was hoping we could talk, but I didn’t realize… anyways. I won’t make you do anything again.” He shrugged, “Well I mean, unless you come after me again, then I do have to protect myself.”

“I won’t… I won’t, I promise. I’ll stay away from the bar, and the church, and.. And anywhere else you want me to. I won’t come anywhere near you.”

“That’s not what I meant, I just… Fuck. Nevermind.” Jesse looked like he wanted to say more but just ended up opening the door and leaving the car, slamming it shut behind him.

Relief flooded his system when the man was gone and Donnie didn’t care that he was in the middle of the parking lot, that anyone could see him in his car sobbing. He wasn’t sure how long he was there but once he could see straight again, once tears didn’t blur his vision he turned the car on and headed back home. 

He sat in his car in the driveway for a long time. That had been close. Too close. In his panic, in his fear, he came to the conclusion that the only place he was safe was at home, maybe at work. The preacher didn’t like Odin, he probably wouldn’t go there. It would have to be good enough, he couldn’t afford to lose his job. 

There were missed calls on his phone, texts, but he just shut the phone off and threw it on the passenger seat floor. Maybe they were worried about him, maybe they were still willing to be seen with him before but after tonight? He didn’t need anyone else to tell him, he knew he was an embarrassment. 

He reached over to the glove box, flipping it open and stared at his gun. He slowly reached for it, wrapping his hand around the grip. It brought back a visceral memory of the gun in his mouth and he swallowed hard. Part of him wondered what it would have been like if he had been commanded to pull the trigger, if this had all ended in that bathroom. Was he better off like this? He opened his mouth and got the gun all the way to it, the muzzle pressing against his bottom lip before he dropped it with a sob. Too much of a coward to even end it.

  
  


It took Donnie a long time to fall asleep and when he finally did it wasn’t peaceful.

In his dream he was back in the bathroom, back in front of the Preacher.

_ “On your knees.” _

_ He sunk down to them, his heart hammering as he looked up at Jesse, mesmerized by his eyes. Jesse moved closer to him until he was almost touching.  _

_ It took a moment because he didn’t remember that and then the man was talking, “Open your mouth.” _

_ He did, of course he did. What else could he do but submit. Once his mouth was open Jesse’s thumb pressed into his bottom lip, rubbing back and forth across it until he finally pressed it in along his tongue. “Suck.” _

_ His mouth closed around the digit, sucking on his thumb as he slowly moved it in and out. There was something different about it, that felt right. One of Jesse’s hands moved to the back of his head, “That’s a good boy.” _

_ He should be disgusted, but the praise did something else. His cock stiffened, each suck of the man’s thumb feeling like it was connected directly to his dick. He shifted his weight on his knees and even that, the hard ground digging into them, made his dick twitch.  _

_ “Oh, if you like that, you’re gonna love this.” _

_ Jesse reached for his pants, undoing his belt buckle with one hand. “Alright, Donnie, let’s see what other sounds you can make.” _

Donnie gasped as he sat straight up, the dream so real for a moment he confused it with the memory he had of what happened. Once he realized where he was, that he was in bed, in his house, he realized something else. At first he thought he had pissed himself again, he felt sticky, but he lifted the covers to look and he would have rather wet the bed.

He flopped back on the pillows and found it in himself to laugh, because of course. First wet dream he’d had since he was a kid and it was about the preacher putting him on his knees, about making him… right. Why would he dream that? What was happening to him?

Donnie went to work. He kept his eyes down, he didn’t speak unless he was spoken too, and ate lunch by himself in his car. The things that he used to do grudgingly - taking notes, being a secretary, cleaning up after Odin, he did all those without any complaint. 

He tried to call Betsy again and when he got her voicemail he hesitated a long time but finally spoke up. “I know you don’t wanna talk to me Betsy. I just wanted to let you know… I’m packing up my stuff tomorrow and going to stay at the motel so you can… can come back to the house. I’m sorry.”

He was worried he would be tasked with the other part of his job, the one where he was supposed to beat the crap out of people, but Odin was so caught up in the church and trying to get it from Jesse that he didn’t have any of those assignments. It would come down to standing off with Jesse at some point and Donnie already knew that he wouldn’t be at that one. But his boss didn’t need to know that.

Some people tried to talk to him, Verne and Clive, but when he just looked away and kept his mouth shut they gave up. 

After work he went straight back to the motel he was staying at, ordering in every night so he wouldn’t have to go to the store. Wouldn’t have to face anyone, wouldn’t risk running into the Preacher. 

Without fail at night when he’d sleep he’d dream of the preacher. Sometimes nightmares that ended with his brain splattered across the wall of that bathroom, some that ended with his stomach splattered in cum. One scared him more than the other.

It wasn’t much of a life.

Donnie slammed his fist against the Preacher’s door. “I know you’re in there you fucker! Open the door!”

He tried to hit it again but stumbled, too drunk to be completely balanced, not nearly drunk enough for this. He took a moment to get his balance and then kicked it. “You owe me this Preacher, open the door!” His voice wavered, and he might have been crying, but it didn’t matter anymore. He raised his hand again but suddenly the door pulled open, Jesse standing there looking annoyed and sleepy.

“Donnie? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

He shoved the man backwards and Jesse let himself be moved, and he could see the man quickly waking up. “Donnie, are you drunk?”

He ignored the questions and continued to push Jesse back until they were out of the doorway. Jesse rubbed his face, “Shut the door, will ya?”

Out of instinct he cringed but it wasn’t a command and he just glared. Jesse rolled his eyes and pushed around him to go shut it himself. “Alright, wanna tell me what is going on Donnie? I haven’t seen ya since the bar. What’s that been, a week?”

By the time Jesse moved back in front of him he had the gun out, and he watched Jesse’s face and body go from relaxed to ready. “This again?”

Donnie closed his eyes for a moment and then dropped to his knees, and when he opened his eyes again he had to wipe away tears. He had been holding the gun vaguely at Jesse but he raised it up so it was pointing at himself and tried to meet Jesse’s eyes, “Help me, Preacher. I tried to do it myself but I can’t, I need you… tell me to do it,  _ please _ .”

He pressed the gun into his mouth like he had that night, though his arm was shaking so bad he clinked it against his teeth. He closed his eyes and waited, the gun getting harder to hold as a few sobs slipped out. His finger twitched on the trigger but he just. couldn’t. do it. He opened his eyes, “Please.” Muddled around the gun but he was sure Jesse understood.

“Donnie.” Jesse dropped to his knees in front of him, grabbing his hand and yanking it down, pulling the gun out of his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He tried to fight him on it, tried to get the gun back to his head but finally relented with a sob. Jesse yanked the gun out of his hand and Donnie let him, grabbing on to his shirt instead, “If you won’t order me to do it, then you do it. Please, Preacher.”

“I should have checked on you sooner, I knew you weren’t right.” Jesse threw the gun away, shaking his head. 

It fully registered that Jesse wasn’t going to do it and it pushed Donnie over the edge. He fell to his elbows, dropping his head to the floor as he sobbed.

He was pliant when Jesse tugged him sideways. Arms were wrapped around him, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him. He didn’t care anymore how pathetic he looked, how pathetic he was. He just wanted it to stop.

“I’m sorry, Donnie.” The arms around him tightened but he was too far gone to even register the words. He cried until there was nothing left, until the emotional exhaustion, the crappy sleep, the alcohol he had drank won out and sleep took over.

The bed felt more comfortable than usual and Donnie stretched, and about the time he realized it wasn’t his bed he also realized he wasn’t alone. He blinked his eyes a couple times, because he had to be dreaming, but the Preacher was still there, sleeping on the couch next to the bed. 

He let his head fall back to the pillow, and he wished he could forget the night before. He had cried himself to sleep and Jesse must have put him to bed. Another glance around and his gun was on the bedside table. He could grab it and shoot the Preacher right now. The man was asleep, he wouldn’t be able to stop him. He’d be a hero, Odin would be happy, Betsy would come back and all he had to do was pick up the gun. Just had to shoot the only person in the town who seemed to give a fuck about him anymore.

He pushed back the blankets, and moved quietly to his feet. He glanced at the man and then dropped his eyes and moved passed, heading for the kitchen. The least he could do was make some coffee.

By the time Jesse showed up in the kitchen Donnie was in front of the stove, cooking. 

“Donnie, you okay?”

He darted his eyes to look at him and then back at the food. “I thought, I thought I’d make some breakfast. If you want.”

“Sure Donnie. You want some help?”

He shook his head without looking. He opened cupboards until he found plates and then filled them, pouring coffee. With only one hand he grabbed a coffee cup and set it down on the table, turning back to the counter. He grabbed the other cup and felt Jesse behind him. The man grabbed the plates for him and he nodded his thanks, swallowing down his nerves.

Sitting at the table together was surreal, and Donnie mostly pushed his food around. 

“You’re a good cook Donnie, thanks for making breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” His fork clinked against the plate, he still hadn’t quite got the hang of using his left hand. 

“You wanna talk about last night?”

He bought some time by eating another forkful of food but then shook his head, “Not really.”

“Alright.”

It helped if he didn’t think at all. Like that instead of killing Jesse for humiliating him, for breaking him, he made him breakfast. Perfectly normal and okay. Had to be why he was getting choked up. He angrily scrubbed at his face, not that he was crying.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Preacher’s voice was soft, calm and he nodded without looking at him. “You’re okay, Donnie.”

He met his eyes and his voice broke, “Can you tell me that? Can you make me believe that?”

Jesse only gave him a small smile, “I don’t have to make ya Donnie, it’s true on its own. Come on, finish your breakfast.”

“Okay.” It was comforting to be directed, to be told what to do like that. When he could choose to listen or not. The rest of breakfast was quiet and calm.

Once the food was gone Donnie felt awkward. He stood up and tried to clear the table, struggling with just one hand. Jesse stood and helped him without saying anything, and once it was set he leaned against the counter, lost as to what to do now.

There was a tug on the back of his shirt, “Come on Donnie, we gotta talk.”

“I don’t want-”

“Wasn’t asking.” Jesse’s voice was low, dripping with that cold authority.

Donnie bit back a sound, because that tone had an effect on him. He blamed those freaking dreams he couldn’t stop having. 

“Donnie?” 

“Right, sorry. Coming.” He pushed away from the counter and followed the man’s voice into the living room. 

He was sitting on the couch and Donnie reached him and hesitated and for reasons he didn’t quite understand dropped to his knees in front of him. 

Jesse looked startled, “Donnie, why are you on your knees?”

“I don’t know.” Jesse moved so he was standing over him, and Donnie had to lift his head up sharply to keep eye contact. He could feel his face flushing, and chewed his lip, willing his body to knock it the fuck off. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you Donnie.” Jesse placed a hand on his cheek, and Donnie couldn’t help it as he made a sound that was definitely not a fear one. “Donnie?”

He closed his eyes, this couldn’t be happening. When he opened them he shook his head, “Am I being punished Preacher? For all the beatings I gave out? For being too proud? Is that what this is?” 

Jesse was watching him closely, the hand still on his jaw as he slid his thumb to Donnie’s lips. His breath hitched, it was so similar to his dream. There was a flash of something on Jesse’s face, something hot, but then the man dropped his hand and stepped back. “You aren’t being punished.”

“I am though.” It had to be. He was supposed to suffer at this man’s hands, it was the only thing that made sense. Desperation made him shuffle forward and he grabbed Jesse’s hand, “Tell me to do something Preacher. Tell me… what am I supposed to do?”

“Get up Donnie, I don’t-”

“No.” He bit the word out, “ _ No.” _

Jesse met his eyes and they were both quiet for a while before he shook his head, “You don’t want this Donnie.”

He didn’t know if he did or not. So he averted his eyes and lifted Jesse’s hand back to his cheek. Refusing to make a decision. When Jesse’s thumb slid over his lip he opened his mouth and could feel Jesse move closer, could feel the intent in his body when that thumb pressed down against his tongue.

His breath came out in a whoosh, and it had to be the fastest he’d ever gotten hard. This wasn’t right. There had to be something deeply wrong with him. 

“Suck.” Donnie whined, and didn't care that he hadn’t been  _ forced _ to. He closed his mouth around his thumb, It was more awkward than his dream, he had no idea what he was doing, but the effect on him was the same.

One of his hands hovered over his own dick, but he didn’t touch. Jesse slid his thumb out of his mouth and he tried to follow for a moment before he settled back on his knees. 

Jesse was shaking his head, but a glance at his crotch told Donnie that the man was interested. “Preacher?”

“Donnie, you ain’t thinking straight. You don’t want this.” His voice was husky though, and heat in his gaze. Conflict clear on his face.

“Please Preacher.” He didn’t know how to put it in words, he  _ needed _ this. His mind raced trying to think of how to convince him, because he knew he couldn’t  _ make _ Jesse do anything. The other man held all the power and he snapped out, “Don’t tell me what I want.”

“Tell me what do you want then, Donnie.”

In the dreams he had, in the few times he’d thought about it when he wasn’t dreaming, he’d never had to say. It had just happened. He swallowed hard, embarrassed as he glanced up at Jesse and then back down. “I…” His eyebrows came together and finally he muttered, “I want you to tell me what to do.” Not that he wanted to think about it right now but he wondered for a brief moment if this was something similar to what his wife craved.

Jesse moved close enough that he was nearly touching him, “Do you want me to hurt you Donnie?” His eyes went wide because that fear was never far away, and it made the corner of Jesse’s mouth tilt up. “Didn’t think so.”

“If you want to though.” Donnie closed his eyes and finally snarled, “I had everything under control until you took it from me, Preacher. So why stop now?”

“Want to suck my cock then, is that what this is about?”

He might be conflicted but his cock wasn’t, at the words it throbbed and twitched and he couldn’t stop from pressing his palm against himself. Couldn’t stop the moan. “Yes,” quiet and breathy but there, he had said it.

There was a moment of surprise on Jesse’s face, but it faded to something darker. “But you want me to  _ make  _ you, huh?” Their eyes met and held until finally, barely, Donnie nodded.

Jesse’s thumb hooked back over his bottom teeth, pressing his mouth open again. He sucked it greedily, lapping at him, like he was trying to convince Jesse it was a good idea. 

“Touch yourself. Over your pants.” Donnie nodded, his hand sliding over where he was pressed against his pants, hips rocking at even the small amount of stimulation. 

For his part Jesse ran a hand over himself, but then dropped it, focusing on Donnie. He pulled his hand back and ran his thumb over Donnie’s lip. “Undo your pants, get your dick out.” Donnie hesitated and looked up and Jesse’s eyes flashed, they both knew what he wanted. “ **Now** **_.”_ **

Donnie scrambled to get his pants undone, pulling himself out, mewling at the feel of his own hand on himself. That was what he had needed, for it to be out of his control. Jesse’s hand slid around the back of his head and he waited, but the man didn’t do anything else. 

“Touch yourself, Donnie.”

His hand slid over himself, but he wanted more. He licked his lips and looked up at Jesse, “What about you?” It was the closest he could bring himself to asking.

“Don’t worry about me Donnie, just do what you’re told.”

The man wasn’t going to give in. He could see his cock was hard, could see that he wanted it, and he had convinced himself that Jesse Custer was a bastard, but this didn’t fit with that. So he reached for Jesse’s buckle himself, not sure what the man was going to do.

Jesse's jaw tightened and he was sure he was going to be told no, be shoved away, but the man just watched him. He struggled with just one hand, hoping the man would help but he was left to get it on his own. He hesitated once, feeling stupid, and looked up at Jesse and was rewarded with a nod.

He had more confidence as he finally got his pants open, tugging them down. He slipped fingers under the waistband of the man’s underwear but his eyes darted up again. He wasn’t sure exactly when but the expression on Jesse’s face was different, softer. He reached down to tug his underwear down himself, but pushed away Donnie’s hand. “Touch yourself.”

Absentmindedly he dropped his hand to touch himself, but couldn’t take his eyes off where Jesse stroked his own cock a few times. Jesse’s other hand went to the back of his head again, just a steady pressure and Donnie waited but nothing happened. 

“Jesse?”

“I won’t command you to do it Donnie, not that.”

“ _ Please _ .”

Jesse closed his eyes and huffed out a breath and suddenly tightened his hand, yanking Donnie forward. “Suck me.” 

It wasn’t a command, but it didn’t matter. He took him in his mouth, too much too fast and gagged, face flushing when Jesse chuckled above him. “Easy.”

He slowed, trying to lick, letting the pressure on the back of his head direct him. Jesse hmm’d above him, “Fuck, good boy Donnie. Touch yourself, faster.”

His hand moved faster, moaning at touching himself, but at the words too. At mostly the words. Abruptly he realized he was on the edge of cumming and he pulled his hand away. 

Jesse noticed immediately, “I said to touch yourself.”

His mouth was full of cock so he only made a negative sound and Jesse pulled his head back, and it made his whole body shudder as the tip of his cock slipped across his bottom lip. Jesse raised an eyebrow at him and it took him a moment to be able to talk, “I’m gonna cum.”

The momentary worry slid from Jesse’s face and he yanked his head roughly, “Touch yourself.” He did, hips stuttering, and knew it would only be a few strokes before he came. “ **Don’t cum.** ”

Fuck. His hips jerked forward, and he was just on the cusp of cumming, but couldn’t reach it. It was too much and he pulled his hand away from himself but Jesse shook his head, “No, keep touching yourself.”

He whined but slid his hand back over himself. He was slick with precum, and the sensation was overwhelming. He was distracted as Jesse pulled him back down on his cock, and he had never done this before but the salty taste of precum was heavy on his tongue and he thought the man might be close. 

Above him Jesse’s breathing was faster, tugging on him, and he was right. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop,” Jesse’s own breath caught, “Don’t stop touching yourself.”

Two hands grabbed to hold his head as Jesse came. He wasn’t prepared for it and it caught him off guard. He choked, sputtering as his mouth was full of cum. There were a few shallow thrusts and then Jesse pulled out. His grip on his hair didn’t soften though, forcing their eyes to meet. 

Jesse swiped at the cum that had drizzled down his chin with two fingers, and held them to Donnie’s mouth. He licked them, a frustrated whine as his hand slid over himself, his whole body aching to cum. 

The fingers were pulled away from his mouth and Jesse was watching him, but he didn’t understand what he wanted. He slowed his hand down on himself but Jesse shook his head. Desperate he whimpered, “Please?”

“Please what?”

And he caught on, “Please can I cum, please.  _ Please _ .”

For a moment he wasn’t sure Jesse was going to let him, the look on his face held that dark glee like it had that night he broke his arm, but it was gone in an instant. “ **Cum** .”

The suddenness caught him off guard and he fell forward with the force of it, body strung tight, crying out. His whole body was shaking, and a hand fell to the back of his head, stroking it, calming him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was like that, trying to remember how to breathe, but eventually he realized Jesse was kneeling on the ground in front of him. The man had put himself away, straightened up, and Donnie suddenly felt exposed. He pushed back to his knees and tried to get his pants up, but he was sticky and clumsy.

“Shh.” Jesse pushed his hand away to help him get his pants up, and he felt worse. This was supposed to make him feel better, to get it out of his system, to get over whatever the fuck was wrong with him. 

But he was still afraid of Jesse, still wanted his touch. He looked at him and he thought after they had done this that he would hate him, or at least that the man would mean nothing. That he’d be better.

Instead he was crying. Again.

He dropped his head into his hands, but not before he saw Jesse’s face fall.

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have… Donnie, please look at me.”

He waved his hand at Jesse though, because the other man being upset about it only made it worse. “No, I wanted to. Been dreaming about it actually. That’s not it.” The words came out muffled but he knew he heard him. “I thought it would make things better.”

“Donnie, my dick ain’t that special.”

A bark of laughter made it out, and then another, and he dropped his hand, sitting back on his heels. Jesse smiled and that did ease him. “I hate you.”

“You okay?”

He nodded and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know.” Jesse got to his feet and reached down to grab Donnie’s good arm, and pulled him up. Both on their feet Donnie had forgotten that he was taller than Jesse as the man had to look up at him. Jesse was the first to glance away, “I can make you forget this Donnie. That we did this. I can’t make the whole town forget what happened at the bar, and you had that whuppin coming fair and square anyways, but I can make you forget what I can do.”

He could still taste Jesse’s cum and the man was offering to make him forget. “Could you do that?”

Jesse nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Is that a yes?” 

Donnie grabbed the man by his shirt and yanked him forward, watching as he had to tilt his head up a little more to keep eye contact. “No.” It bothered him in a way he couldn’t explain to think of it all being gone. It would fix him, the humiliation from the whuppin would be there but that wasn’t what had broken him. 

And the part that he had known on some level but hadn’t been able to admit finally was clear, “I was a terrible person Jesse, I don’t think anything ever was gonna change that. But you did.” He let Jesse go and stumbled back. 

He didn’t get far before Jesse grabbed him. “I can help you.”

“I don’t want you to make me forget, Preacher.”

“Not like that. But I can help.”

Donnie stared at him, after the last few weeks it seemed impossible to think that there was anyway out. The hole he had dug himself was so deep. He relaxed into the hold and met his eyes, “How?”

  
  


“This is dumb.” Donnie glanced sideways at Jesse, “You’re dumb.” Jesse turned to meet the gaze and Donnie averted his eyes, “Sorry.”

“We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want.”

Donnie looked out the window at the bar, and his stomach twisted. Some things weren’t able to be fixed. He had talked to Betsy and even if she had wanted to work things out, he didn’t think he wanted to. He loved her and she had dropped him like he was nothing. Besides, he wasn’t sure the person she loved still existed. 

Work was okay, after Odin had clearly lost it and tried to take a few of them to rush the church he had been removed as owner. The new owner was okay and there was no call for him to beat the shit out of anyone anymore. He was a glorified assistant but he was okay with that.

But he wanted his friends back. He wanted a life. He couldn’t spend all his time following around Jesse. He had given him a place to stay while he got back on his feet, more than a few nights up all night talking, and shit, he didn’t think anyone had ever cared about what he had to say before. Not really. They just wanted him to talk big, and punch, and put on a show. 

He didn’t want to do that anymore.

And there were more than a few nights up all night not talking.

It wasn’t like they were together. Jesse still loved the girl he had grown up with, Donnie still loved Betsy, but there was  _ something _ between them. 

But he couldn’t just exist there. Step by step he was rebuilding who he was as a person, and he couldn’t do that hiding.

“So tell me what part you think is dumb?”

“What if I have a panic attack?”

“I’m gonna be right there with you. I’ll help you calm if you do.”

“Not with the voice.”

Jesse nodded, “Not with the voice.”

He trusted Jesse now, but most of the time the thought of him using a command made his throat thick with panic. He didn’t need to be compelled to do what Jesse said, he just did it because it was Jesse. Another thing he had learned about himself. 

Donnie eyed the bar again, “What if-”

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go.”

“Jesse.”

“Now.”

Jesse was out of the car and heading in and Donnie huffed out a curse before he scrambled to get out of the car and catch up with him. “You’re an asshole.” His only response was that smug smile. It shouldn’t be comforting, but it was.

Inside the bar he spotted Clive and Verne and headed in that direction. He hesitated, briefly, but Jesse was there at his back, “I’m gonna get us some drinks and be right there.” A hand at the small of his back gave him a push and he was moving again. 

Once he reached the table he couldn’t help feel silly when all he was greeted with were friendly smiles. Some concern on their faces, and he realized it was about him. 

“Donnie!” Verne grabbed him to pull him into a hug, and if he tensed up at the contact the man didn’t say anything, just let him go with a pat on the back. “I know you said you were coming out, but we weren’t sure we’d see you.”

“Surprised to hear you been staying with the Preacher.” Clive glanced past him at the bar, “And that you’re here with him.”

He rubbed a hand across the back of his head and darted his gaze to the bar, looking for Jesse. The man’s back was to him getting beers and he looked back to the table. “Well…” He’d practiced what he was going to say in his head, and he thought he was a better person now and it would easy to say. He was wrong, it still made his face flush. Was still embarrassing. “I’ve been an asshole.” He could read it on his friends’ faces, they agreed, and that stung but it was true. 

“That ain’t true Donnie.”

From Clive. Whose nose he broke because the man helped him pick up a god damn pen. It hardened his resolve. “It is. You don’t gotta pretend like it ain’t.”

Verne’s voice was more serious, “It never stopped us from liking you Donnie.”

That made him smile and he glanced at the bar again to see Jesse asking the bartender for their beers. “I don’t want to be like that anymore. That whuppin Jesse gave me, I deserved it. Probably should have gotten one long before that.” He fiddled with the coaster on the table, “Jesse’s been helping me get all that figured out.”

“Are you okay?” There was real concern in Verne’s voice. No subterfuge, no deception. Just a worried friend. 

So he answered honest, “Most of the time. I just don’t wanna fight no more. I know that was why y’all were friends with me, and you can call me whatever you want. But I don’t want to fight anyone no more.”

The silence at the table went on long enough that Donnie started to feel sick, panicked, because maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe he was setting himself up to be rejected and mocked.

It was broken by Douggie as he let out an abrupt laugh, “Shit, good. You dragged us into fights left and right that we got our asses kicked. I know I won’t miss it.”

Clive had perked up, “I hate fighting.”

The tension left Donnie’s shoulders just as Jesse reached the table, placing a beer in front of him. Jesse glanced at the table, “Mind if I join ya?”

“Of course, Preacher.”

Donnie shuffled his chair over so there was enough room for Jesse and the conversation picked up easy. He leaned back in his chair and couldn’t believe it was that simple. Even though Jesse had said it would be. Had told him that under the bluster and big mouth he was a good guy and that was why he was liked. Not because he could throw a punch. And he had been right. He couldn’t help but give Jesse what he was sure was a dopey smile. He kind of owed everything to him.

After a few minutes when the attention was off them Jesse leaned over close to him to talk, his nearness making something in Donnie’s chest flutter, “Hey. Told you so.”

Didn’t mean the fucker wasn’t an asshole, though.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
